


If Only I Could Reach Her

by jamiesommers



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiesommers/pseuds/jamiesommers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peeta’s nightmares turn to reality, he reaches towards the ethereal being, in the midst of darkness, with the hopes that she will save his life. An outtake from the world of Road to Recovery (set during chapter seven), told in Peeta’s POV. Can be read as a standalone piece or in conjunction with the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only I Could Reach Her

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Ab for your unbiased opinions. Thanks Mace for predicting my needs. Thanks Broadway Baby for editing and inspiring me on a daily basis. And thanks to all three of you for being there when I needed someone and when I didn’t. Thank you my friends.

**If Only I Could Reach Her**

**By: Jamie Sommers**

**Prompts in Panem: Day 3 - Queen Anne’s Lace:** _An illusion, hallucination, fable, or daydream. Fantasies are mental images about events that have not happened but often fulfill a psychological need or wise._

__

# If Only I Could Reach Her

_“Love is on the way_

_On wings of angels, I know it’s true_

_I feel it coming through_

_Love is on the way_

_Time is turning the pages_

_I don’t know when, but love will find me again”_

_~ Celine Dion~_

_The room began to spin as the tracker jacker venom became one with my bloodstream, and the world I was trapped in grew hazy and dark. “Katniss,” I screamed her name out in my mind, desperate to keep her memory alive, but it was barely audible by the time it reached my lips. The metal hospital bed they had me strapped to began to make a rattling noise from my body’s violent quakes, I tried to hold onto reality, but it was quickly slipping away. I knew I’d eventually succumb to Snow’s torture, either that or die, but I sure as hell didn’t want to make it easier for him. I searched my weakened mind for the memory of her, for the sanctuary her arms provided me when everything around me grew dank and cold, I searched for Katniss._

_I could hear Snow’s voice fading into the background, yelling, “If I’d wanted you to kill him, I would have televised it!”_

_The scientists and doctors Snow assigned to work on me were scrambling. They pushed buttons on the machine that regulated the venom they were administering and yanked the IV from my arm, and a female voice shouted frantically, “We’re losing him,” just as I surrendered to the gloom._

_“Peeta,” the sound of Katniss’s voice came from my side, but the darkness concealed her from my sight. I tried to reach for her, but I stopped when I felt the thick liquid pooling at my feet, and saw the fluorescent white walls closing in on me, causing the pitch black emptiness to glow. “Peeta,” there was a tremor in Katniss’s voice as she called to me again and again, but I still couldn’t see her. All I could see was the neon green of the poison Snow shot into my veins, flowing across my feet like a river, and the bright red blood from my most recent beating, sprayed across the white walls. “Peeta,” her terror filled voice continued to call to me; I began to turn my head from left to right in search of her, but the bright colors blinded me. “Please, Peeta,” her urgent tone replaced with distress. I tried to reach out to her, to force my feet to move towards her plea, but I was frozen in the midst of this rising green stream. My feet refused to move. My arms were pinned to my sides, and I knew if I didn’t reach her soon, I’d drown in the quickly flooding room. “Please, Peeta. Please,” she implored, and though I couldn’t see them, I could hear the tears in her voice._

_The green liquid rushed between my thighs…past my waist…mid chest, and then I saw her. “Katniss?” She was at the end of the room draped in a gauzy white gown. Her arms were at her sides and when she spread them open, I could see the wings Cinna had made for her, spread out as though she were welcoming me home._

_“Peeta,” I felt the warmth of her breath stirring the air around me and wet droplets on my neck. I sucked in as much air as possible before the neon waterway took away my ability to breathe, and prayed that Katniss would be able to use those wings to fly away some place safe from harm. “Please, Peeta,” the desperation in her tone made me wish I could tell her that everything would be all right, that my death was what I wanted for her. She could finally win the Games and go home to her family, to the people she loved, but it was too late, as the river of venom had covered my mouth._

 

“Please, Peeta,” Katniss quietly sobbed. “Wake up. Wake up.”

 

My eyes flew open on a gasp. The flood of tracker jacker venom I was drowning in was gone and I was lying safely in my own bed with Katniss leaning over me. “Katniss?” My arms wound around her in one swift motion. Pulling her to me, I placed hard kisses against the side of her head, her cheek, anywhere my lips could reach. “I knew you’d save me,” my thick voice croaked out as I tried to make my way out of my nightmare and back to reality.

 

“My God, Peeta.” She was sniffling in my ear, “You wouldn’t wake up,” over and over again.

 

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what she had said.

 

“I kept shaking you,” Katniss ran her hand over my cheek; “I hit you.” She placed a soft kiss where my cheek stung, then followed with, “I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

 

“I was dreaming,” I said half to myself and half to Katniss. It hadn’t felt like a dream. It felt as real as the material of Katniss’s nightshirt gripped in my fists. “My whole body was quaking,” I said, remembering the sound of the hospital bed’s rails clanking, from my dream.

 

“No. That was me. I was trying to shake you awake.”

 

I wiped the puddle of tears she cried against my neck and studied them, expecting them to glow like the tracker jacker’s venom, but they failed to do so. “I wasn’t drowning?”

 

“No,” Katniss laid herself across me, tucked her head beneath my chin, and blew out a deep breath. “My God, Peeta, you scared me.”

 

“Sorry,” I glanced around the room as much as I could considering the weight of Katniss had me pressed into the mattress, and let out a few cleansing breaths of my own.

 

My heart refused to stop racing no matter how many times I told myself I was safe. Katniss asked, “Do you want to talk about it, Peeta?”

 

I answered, “No,” without even thinking, but she was trembling, and I could still hear her sniffling so I asked her, “Do _you_ want to talk about it?”

 

It took her a couple of minutes to answer, but eventually she did. “I thought you were having a flashback in your sleep or something. You were gasping for air and every muscle in your body went rigid and stiff.” Her hands ran over my arms as though she was making sure they were no longer as tense as a steel rod. “I was so scared, Peeta. I didn’t know how to help you.”

 

“I’m okay now,” I pressed my lips against the top of her head and ran a comforting hand down her spine. “Let’s go back to sleep, okay?” I checked the clock on the nightstand, hoping it was early enough for me to make an excuse to start my day, but it was only two in the morning. “It’s late.” Rolling us to our sides, I pulled Katniss to my body and felt her arms and legs wrap around me, cocooning me in her warmth. Though I didn’t tell her that this was what I was searching for in my dream, I did take advantage of the security she provided me. “Shhh,” I whispered into her hair when I heard her soft whimpers. “I’m okay, Katniss. It was just a dream.”

 

Terrified that I might slip back into that dark world again, I didn’t bother closing my eyes. No matter how hard I fought sleeping, my body gave into its physical exhaustion and I was sucked back into the neon river, gasping for air. I stared at the angel, whose wings were spread wide open, inviting me to the safe haven her arms would provide…if only I could reach her.

 

…..

…..

…..

 

During that period of time, Katniss and I would rotate at whose house we slept. We’d spend a few days at mine, then hers, then mine again. It was a pretty good set up, allowing both of us the comforts of home when we needed it, yet still allowing us freedom to live our own lives. We didn’t do much without the other, but it was nice to know we had that option. With the exception of the nightmares we both suffered from, and my flashbacks, life was slowly becoming a routine; a glorious exercise in normality.

 

On the mornings Katniss would go to the woods to hunt, I’d spend time with Haymitch, making sure he hadn’t drowned in his own vomit. Our mentor still drank more than I approved of, but the time he spent in a dry district, showed him that he could survive without the aid of alcohol. I asked him when I got back to Twelve why he started drinking again since he had finally kicked the habit, and he gave me that look that stated, ‘You know why.’ Unfortunately, all of the remaining Victors knew why he drank, why I painted and baked, why Katniss continued to hunt even though we no longer needed to eat off the land, why Annie cried all the time…

 

It was during one of my visits to Haymitch that I remembered a conversation I had with Gale while we were hiding in Tigris’s basement. He had insinuated that Katniss would spend her life with whomever ensured her survival, and though I didn’t argue with him at the time, his comment hadn’t sat well with me. After a few minutes of silence he said, _“I finally understand what you and Katniss went through in the Games.”_

 

_“No,”_ I shook my head at him and handed him the cup of water he had given me to drink. _“That’s something you’ll never understand. Being in a war isn’t any better, but revolutions have a purpose. I don’t necessarily agree with the fighting, but there’s a reason for the rebellion.”_ I stared at my bound wrists and whispered, _“Hopefully you’ll never have to understand what it was like being in the Games.”_

 

Gale rolled his eyes and said impatiently, _“I get it.”_

 

_“No. You don’t,”_ I said forcefully, and tried again. _“Imagine aligning with your enemies, knowing that they could slit your throat at any moment. Imagine hunting down innocent children who only want to go home and sleep in their own beds…to see their families…who want to live past the age of 18, all for the sole purpose of entertainment. It’s so much worse than the war we’re fighting.”_

 

That’s why I did my best to allow Haymitch his alcoholic vice without lecturing him. The content of his bottle was all he had to get him through his nights. Thank God Katniss and I had each other.

 

On the days that Katniss didn’t hunt, we’d work on the book, do housework, take walks, read, anything but watch television. The broadcasts were different now and no longer filled with reminders of the Games, but the propaganda remained. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it used to be. The one minute spots that aired sporadically throughout the programs, reminding the citizens of our “new” Panem, to be kind to their fellow man regardless of what side they fought for in the war, still held too many reminders of our past.

 

The physical wounds Katniss and I had incurred healed, but our emotional ones were still on the mend, as was our relationship. We were learning to live again, and in the process we grew closer together. Daytime wasn’t so bad. We both had issues that needed to be dealt with, but we were muddling through. Nighttime however…nighttime was the worst. At least it started off that way. Eventually Katniss and I felt a level of comfort with one another, when we went to bed, that was difficult to explain. Whether it was her head resting against my chest, my front spooning her back, or simply her foot tucked beneath my own, we would constantly be touching one another in our sleep, searching each other out without even realizing it. Katniss’s screams would wake me when she had a nightmare, and I helped to take her mind off of them. Though I didn’t make any noise when I had a nightmare, nor did I move, Katniss always seemed to sense when they occurred and did her best to comfort me. There were a few nightmares of me killing the girl from Eight, but the ones that seemed to be occupying my thoughts as of late, were of my time spent in Snow’s clutches.

…..

…..

…..

 

_The river of neon green continued to rise within the white walled room. In the distance I could see Katniss in her flowing white dress with her wings spread._

_The arms that were pinned to my sides broke free from their invisible binds. I reached down to pull one leg forward as a Peacekeeper appeared before me with his weapon in hand. Snow’s voice echoed in the background, “Don’t kill him. I need him alive.” My legs finally broke free and I was able to defend myself against the white uniformed guard. I felt the snap of the first guard’s neck in my hands, heard the loud cracking noise of his bones breaking, and then threw him to the side, ready for the next. One after another the Peacekeepers came for me, and I fought each as I made my way to the angel, Katniss, waiting at the green river’s bank. The look of serenity and love on her face only motivated me to fight harder. I felt my lip split open from the force of a Peacekeeper’s gun smashing into my mouth, but I was able to turn the gun on him and I killed him. Six of Snow’s guards lay floating in the river surrounding me, their bright red blood seeped from the wounds I inflicted; the mixture of red and green momentarily reminded me of the traditional winter celebration my district held every December._

_I continued to make my way to Katniss. I was so close to her. So close, but something took hold of my leg. Glancing down, I saw one of the dead Peacekeeper’s arm wedged between my legs. His face was familiar to me. I had seen him before. “Reed?” I touched a tentative finger against the cold cheek belonging to the Victor from district Four. “Reed!” I looked at the rest of the Peacekeeper’s bodies, rolled them one by one onto their backs in order to make out their faces, and felt sick at the sight of them._

_“Peeta,” my angel’s voice called to me. “Stay with me, Peeta.” Her extended arms and loving voice failed to falter as she encouraged me on, “Stay with me.” I wanted to tell her to help me save the men and women I had already killed, but what was the point? There would be no helping them. The only people I could help were the angel guarding me, and myself. “Come on, Peeta,” her amorous expression gave me the strength I needed to continue on my quest to the river’s edge. Her hair hung in waves over her bare shoulders, her white feathered wings were not strapped to her arms like I initially thought, but spread out from the center of her back. There was a gold shimmer about six inches above her head, like she had her own personal ray of sunlight beaming down upon her, and such an enormous amount of love radiating from her, I felt as though I had died and gone to another plane of existence. I had gotten so near to her I could feel the heat radiating from her body, envelope me; declaring battle with the chill of the rising river._

_“Katni…pppt” I sputtered and spit out the fluid that had flowed into my mouth. I strained to touch the tips of her fingers with my own. I was almost there. Almost. I choked from my attempt at capturing one last breath._

 

Grasping at my throat and gasping for air, I shot up in bed, unknowingly knocking a worried Katniss to the side. My chest was heaving, my pulse pounding, my heart thumped so hard I thought it would break through my ribcage.

 

“Shhh,” Katniss wrapped her arms around me from behind, but I pushed them away in fear, uncertain if it was her or one of the dead Peacekeepers from my dream. “It’s okay, Peeta. It’s okay.”

 

Her silver eyes almost glowed in the dark bedroom. “Lights!” I yelled out, needing to make certain that I was back in Twelve, and not in the middle of a Capitol induced hallucination. I needed a moment to take account of my familiar surroundings: deep burgundy arm chairs, a small marble table, large dressers, a standing mirror, heavy drapery pulled to the sides and the sheer panels beneath, blowing from the breeze of the open window, reassured me that I was at Katniss’s house. The feel of her hand gliding up and down my spine should have calmed my frazzled nerves, but it failed to do so.

 

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” She asked me as she rested her cheek against my shoulder. “We don’t have to if you don’t want.”

 

“Just give me a minute,” I excused myself to the restroom and splashed some cold water on my face. I checked my lip, but there were no signs of my being beaten except for the tiniest scar at the corner of my mouth. “It was a dream,” I breathed out my relief, but my insides were still quaking. Upon reentering the bedroom I saw Katniss sitting with her knees huddled to her chest, staring at me. “I’m okay,” I assured her before she could ask how I was. Crawling under the covers, I turned, facing my back to her as I wasn’t quite prepared to feel any weight against my chest, but I did reach behind me and held her hand in mine. The light clicked off, and I stared at the shadows dancing on the wall, that the moon’s light created, until I heard the steady breathing coming from behind me. I was tempted to go back home and pick up a paintbrush, but the idea of leaving Katniss alone to face the nightmares didn’t sit well with me. Instead, I paced as quietly as I could through the bedroom, then sat in one of the winged back arm chairs. With my elbows pressed into my knees, and my chin resting on my fists, I replayed the past few night’s dreams through my mind, trying to make some sort of sense of them.

 

I failed to notice Katniss’s movements until her bare feet were toe to toe with mine, and her outstretched hand was in front of my face. “Come on.”

 

I ran my finger over the scar Johanna’s knife had inflicted upon her, the wound that had ultimately saved her life, and then ran my palm over hers. Linking our fingers together, I tugged her gently onto my lap and let the lemony scent of her shampoo, mixed with her sleepy breath, lull me back to calmness.

 

Her head rested atop my own as she curled my hair around one of her fingers. “Come with me,” her tender voice insisted and I allowed her to lead me to the kitchen. “Sit,” she pulled out a chair for me and then went to work brewing a pot of tea. When the steaming cups were set in front of us, and she was sitting across from me, she urged, “Talk.”

 

“Talk?” I met her stare with my own. “You make it sound so easy.”

 

“It is. All you have to do is trust me.”

 

My head momentarily dropped down, and then lifted back up. “These nightmares are different, Katniss.”

 

“Are you sure they are nightmares?” She wrapped her hand around the one I was holding my hot tea in. “They could be flashbacks.”

 

The first time it happened that’s what I thought as well, but after giving it some careful consideration, there was only one conclusion I could come to. “They are, but they’re not like the flashbacks we’ve been dealing with.” She sat silently, giving me time to put two and two together. “I think I’m… _remembering_.”

 

“I’d say that’s a good thing, but the effect these memories are having on you, makes me think you’re better off not knowing.”

 

“Me too,” I sighed as I dropped my head backwards. Taking a few deep breaths, I told her a little of what had happened to me while being held captive. “The first week I was at the Capitol was so awful; I didn’t think it could get much worse. I watched Snow’s men try to beat Johanna into submission, but she was so damn stubborn…” I said through a halfhearted, yet proud grin, “So damn loyal. They didn’t get anywhere with her. We each got our own beatings, but hers were always worse. Probably because Snow knew he’d have to use me as some sort of public voice against the rebellion, and how would it look if the guy that appeared to be his ally, had been beaten as a thanks for his support?” Our hands were locked together across the table, and the tea forgotten. “Then one morning Johanna and I noticed the cells around us had filled up, but not with rebel fighters. With Victors. It didn’t matter where they were from, Two…Four…One… They were all there. Every one of them, but the few of you that got away. Even Enobaria, who was more than happy to tell them whatever they wanted to hear, was caged. One by one, the Peacekeepers would come and drag them off,” I swallowed a sip of the tepid tea hoping it would wash away the taste of bile in my throat. “For hours we’d hear the sounds of screams until finally they’d just stop. I had lost track of time by that point, had no idea how long we had been held captive, but I figured it had been at least two weeks because there were barely any Victors left to torture for information. Then one day Peacekeepers took me and one of the Victors from District Four, a guy named Reed...”

 

“I remember you making us watch his tapes. He won his Games about fifteen years ago, right?” Katniss asked.

 

“Yeah,” I remembered watching those tapes too, and how worried for Katniss’s safety when I saw the muscular boy of fifteen, towering over the male tribute from District Two, right before he gutted him for the win. “He didn’t look anything like the kid we saw in the Games though,” I told Katniss. “He was even bigger, if you can believe that, but he was no match for all of Snow’s guards.” I gave myself a minute, trying to wipe the memory of Reed being held down by eight guards and pummeled until they were able to drag him from his cell. “They could have used some sort of drug to sedate him,” I spoke my thoughts aloud, “but I guess that wouldn’t have served Snow’s purpose.” A shiver went down my spine at the memory of a needle being plunged into my neck and the room spinning. “When I woke up, Snow had me and Reed in a hospital room. I was chained to a wall, and Reed was strapped to a gurney. There were a bunch of men and women standing in some sort of overhead room that allowed them to view everything going on below them, and then this female voice said, ‘Injection given to test subject number one at eleven-eighteen AM.’” I could feel the cold against my back as though I were still chained to the hospital’s stainless steel wall. “Then they started flashing all these images in front of him, but I couldn’t make out what they were. The next thing I knew I heard a beeping noise…saw the doctors racing around the room, and I heard that same female voice say, ‘Test subject number one, time of death, eleven-thirty AM.’” My eyes locked with Katniss’s. “They made me watch their first attempts at hijacking, on the other Victors.”

 

To her credit, Katniss held strong and said with an even keeled tone, “Snow wanted you to see what was going to happen to you.”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “For five consecutive days I watched as they modified their hijacking methods, killing five different Victors, but on the sixth day…” I closed my eyes and blew out a burst of air through my nostrils.

 

“It worked on the sixth day, didn’t it?”

 

I nodded, “But that didn’t stop them from putting a bullet in the guy’s head. And on the seventh day…” I glanced at the veins the scientist inserted my IV’s in. “’Peeta Mellark,’” I repeated the words the female doctor said that first morning while she injected the neon green tracker jacker venom into the bag of saline, “'Start of conditioning and memory alteration, seven AM.’” I shivered.

 

“Oh, Peeta,” Katniss came from around the table and cupped my face in the palms of her hands, placing a kiss against my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It didn’t work, Katniss.” I stood up, kicking my chair out from beneath me, and pulled her into my arms. “I died. My heart stopped.”

 

Arms, smaller than my own, held me tighter than I’d ever been held in my life. Katniss rested her cheek against the center of my chest then repeated the words I had said to her so long ago, “Well, it seems to be working fine now,” then smiled into my eyes.

 

Sharing a bit of laughter after the night we had, was welcoming. “Yes, it is.” The sound of Haymitch’s geese began to squawk from outside, signaling that the day had begun. “Hey, how about some breakfast?” I was done with reliving my nightmare. All I wanted to do at that moment was enjoy the dream come true, currently in my arms.

 

“You cooking?” Katniss gave me a playful smirk.

 

“No,” I brushed a few stray hairs away from her eyes. “We both are.”

 

As we prepared a breakfast of potatoes, bacon, eggs and baking powder biscuits, Katniss asked me, “Do you want to tell me the rest?”

 

“Not now,” I cut through the sticky dough laden with chunks of creamy butter and placed them on the baking stone. “Another time, okay?” I wasn’t sure how to describe the fantastical portion of my dreams to her since I didn’t understand them myself.

 

“You should call Dr. Aurelius,” Katniss said as she covered a plate of food with a sturdy bowl. “I’m going to make sure Haymitch isn’t dead.”

 

“Hey,” I called to her before she left and gave her a small kiss before holding the door open for her. “Thank you.”

 

“You _should_ be thanking me,” she said with a feigned edge to her voice. “I have to subject myself to that man’s filthy house,” the wink she gave me before heading to Haymitch’s made me smile.

 

Taking up Katniss on her suggestion to call Dr. Aurelius, we talked over my dreams and he helped me to work through their symbolism. “This is your mind’s way of handling what happened to you, Peeta. We hoped you’d regain your memories, but you must understand, not all of them will be pleasant.”

 

After the life I lived, I didn’t think I had very many happy memories, so this wasn’t news to me. “But the dead Peacekeepers with Victor’s faces? And Katniss dressed all in white like she was some sort of ethereal being? It’s not like she was there with me.”

 

“Physically, no, but metaphorically, it’s quite possible that a part of your mind held onto her in your time of need. Our brains are complex organs, Peeta. Instead of shutting down, it chose to use Katniss as a symbol, a guardian angel if you will, when you were faced with pure evil.”

 

What he said made complete sense to me. “And the dead Peacekeepers?”

 

“Were they Peacekeepers, Peeta?” Dr. Aurelius asked, and it triggered a memory I had blocked out. “May I suggest that after each of these dreams you write down what it is you see.”

 

“I don’t know about that, doctor.” I had never been too comfortable with documenting my experiences. I was more than happy to help Katniss with the book, but there were certain parts of my life I didn’t want anyone to have access to.

 

“Then talk to Katniss. Tell her what you saw and work through the images. Paint or sketch them out. The important thing is that you don’t keep these things to yourself. You must work through these memories, Peeta, or risk hindering your recovery.”

 

Dr. Aurelius had helped me to remember a great portion of the life I had once led, of my feelings for Katniss, and the man I had been prior to Snow’s torture. No matter how painful some of those memories were, he taught me that I couldn’t move forward if I was stuck in the past. So I faced the memory of Katniss telling me she wanted to forget what happened between us in the first arena, albeit it took me a while to do so, but afterward I was rewarded with another memory. I remembered another conversation with Katniss. The one that allowed us to become friends. Yes, my life had its share of bad moments, but it also had good ones, and those were what I chose to concentrate on. “Thanks, Dr. Aurelius. I’ll talk to you soon.”

 

…..

…..

…..

 

_I’ve turned over the dead bodies of each Peacekeeper floating amidst the river of green and seen the faces of the dead Victors Snow attempted to hijack. I was finally ready to give into the despair and let the river pull me under, but my angel’s painful cry had my head snapping in her direction. “Priiiiiiiim,” she cried out. Her wings, which were normally spread out, hung limply at her sides. Hands that were usually reaching towards me, were now reaching for someone else. “Priiiiiiiim! Nooooooooo!”_

 

I bolted upright at the sounds of Katniss’s screams and shook her awake. “Katniss. Katniss,” her eyes flew open at the sound of my voice. “I’m here. I’m here,” I held my arms open for her, and she climbed into my lap, burying her face in that spot where my neck and shoulder met. “I’m here.” When she had nightmares about the Games, I usually told her that she was safe, but when her dreams were about Prim, I never said things like, “It’s okay,” or “Shhh,” because it wasn’t okay, and she deserved to shed as many tears as she wanted for her sister, but I always told her she didn’t have to face any of these nightmares alone.

 

“Talk to me, Peeta,” she said with a shaky voice. “Talk to me.”

 

“About what? Your nightmare?” I wondered if she wanted to work through them as I worked through mine.

 

“Anything but that,” her legs wrapped around my waist and squeezed while she sat straddling my lap. “Just talk.”

 

“I had a nightmare too,” I told her. “If I hadn’t heard you screaming…” I recalled how I was ready to give into the rising green river, when I saw the faces of the dead Victors, and let death consume me.

 

“A nightmare or a memory?”

 

“Memory, I think.” When she pulled away to look down into my eyes, I brushed both of my hands along the sides of her head, pushing the matted hair away from her face. “You’re always there,” I said in a hushed tone. “You’re wearing this white gown and you have wings on your back.”

 

“Like…” she sniffled and wiped her nose against her sleeve. “Like the wedding dress Cinna made for me?”

 

“No,” I shook my head. “The first time I thought that’s what you were wearing, but, no. That’s not it.” I ran my hands over her arms. “Your shoulders and upper arms are bare, but the rest of you is covered in this gauzy material, and the wings are more arched then the ones Cinna made.” I looked at the top of her head, then back at her. “And you have this golden ray floating above your head that bathes you in shimmering light.” I pressed a kiss against her lips and whispered Dr. Aurelius’ name for what she symbolized, “My guardian angel.”

 

Katniss remained quiet, but there was quizzical spark in her eyes. “Do you believe those things, Peeta?”

 

There were still those that believed in God. The government had torn down all the churches after the Dark Days, because it was dangerous for the people of the districts to have a gathering spot, not to mention to believe in any form of supremacy greater than President Snow, but that didn’t stop the believers from praying to their higher power, or diminish the faith they held in their hearts.

 

“I wasn’t raised to believe in things like that, but my grandmother was and told me stories about God…heaven…an afterlife… And after she passed away, my father would tell me about four angels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, that would watch over the children of the districts while they slept.” The slight shake of Katniss’s head told me she had never allowed herself to believe in anything so improbable, and honestly, I didn’t either when I was a child, but I loved learning about my grandmother and father’s traditions. “I know it sounds farfetched, but the stories were a good way for me to sleep through the night when I was a kid. Thinking there were angels watching over me…keeping me safe…”

 

“Where the hell were they when Effie called your name?” Katniss pushed away from me and threw her legs over the edge of the bed. “Where they hell were they when Prim needed them?! When all those kids in the arena were begging for their lives?!”

 

“I didn’t say I believed in it, Katniss.” She stopped her ranting and stood with her hand on her hip. “Not then anyway.” Katniss’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. “Just hear me out.” I knew this was going to be dangerous territory to tread into, but I wanted her to know what I had seen. What I felt while being held prisoner. “Come here,” I patted the mattress, but she stood her ground, refusing to move. “Please?” I scooted back on the mattress, giving her enough room to sit across from me. It took her a minute, but she finally gave in and sat. “I killed six Peacekeepers while being held prisoner.”

 

“But…how?”

 

“Snow’s instructions were clear. I was to live. They could beat me, but not cause too much damage. They couldn’t shoot me, or stab me or anything that would put my life in danger. That was Snow’s job.” The memory of a Peacekeeper trying to hold me down when I broke free from one of the restraints came back in full force. “The first day I was hijacked, my heart stopped. I don’t know how long it took them to get me back, but Effie told me when she walked me back to my cell, that it was a close one. Apparently the doctors told Snow my heart was in a weakened state and I needed to rebuild some strength if my hijacking was going to be a success.” I sniffed out a bit of laughter. “Those idiots fed me. Lots of protein. I tried to take some back to my cell so I could feed Johanna, but the first time I did that, they beat the hell out of her,” my stomach turned when I thought about Johanna lying naked and bloody on the cold cell floor because she ate a sliver of apple. “The remaining meals I made sure to eat everything on my plate, and drank as much as I could. The entire time I kept thinking, they have no idea what food and water does for a Victor.” Katniss and I shared a wry grin. “The second time they pulled me into the hospital room, I acted weak…barely put up any struggle at all.” I could see the first guard turning his back to me while the other finished strapping my hands down, in the back of my mind. “The doctors and scientists were all gathered around the machine they used to monitor my vital signs. One Peacekeeper headed towards Snow, and the other was still fumbling with my restraint when I yanked my hands free and snapped his neck.” I explained to her how I had adrenaline and newfound vitality on my side. That I pulled the gun from the Peacekeeper’s holster, and then used it to shoot the remaining guards in the room. “I tried to shoot Snow, but they got him and that female scientist out before I could.”

 

“How are you still alive, Peeta?” Katniss asked with shock in her voice. “And don’t say, it was those angels.”

 

“I told you. Snow needed me to stay alive. Those Peacekeepers were casualties of war as far as he was concerned. A slight blip in the morning’s schedule.” I moved forward until our knees where touching. “They shot me with a tranquilizer gun, but not before I took down six of their own men,” I said with a mixture of pride and guilt. “They waited until I was conscious before continuing that day, but right before they did, I remembered the last thing my grandmother had ever said to me. I had gotten a spanking from my mother that morning, and when I went to say goodnight to my grandmother, she gripped my hand and whispered, ‘An eye for an eye, Peeta.’ It was years before I found the courage to ask my dad what that meant. I mean…I could figure it out, but I knew there was a deeper meaning than the obvious. And he told me that the saying came from some sort of religious belief.” I found Katniss’s hands and loosely fisted them within my own. “So when Snow leaned over me, right before they put that crap into my body, I repeated my grandma’s words. ‘An eye for an eye, Snow.’”

 

“He killed six Victors in front of you,” Katniss said, “and you killed six Peacekeepers.”

 

“Exactly,” I told her. “That second day I tried to fight off that poison…closed my eyes when those images started playing in front of me… Until it happened again. My heart stopped. Every time it did I swear to you, I was transported to this large open space.” I told Katniss about my dreams. About the Peacekeepers with Victor’s faces floating in a river of neon green, the white walls sprayed with my blood, and her. “You were there, Katniss. You were on the riverbank in your flowing white dress, with arched wings spread out behind you, and a shimmering halo bathing you in golden light.”

 

“Peeta,” she said quietly, “that doesn’t mean angels exist. I obviously wasn’t there.”

 

“Maybe not in person,” I lifted our joined hands to my lips and pressed a kiss against them, “but your spirit was. I had a choice Katniss. I could have let myself drown in that river and died, or followed the sound of your voice back to life.” Tracing the spot where Clove’s wound had once been, with my thumb, I dipped my head towards hers and said, “I followed my guardian angel…you,” then pressed my lips against hers. “So, yeah…I believe in angels.” I paused before whispering, “How could I not?” I stroked the side of her face and ran my fingers through the ends of her hair.

 

When we broke apart she said as though she was trying to convince me, “That still doesn’t mean angels exist.”

 

“When you were in Thirteen, did you ever feel…connected to me, Katniss?”

 

Looking to the side she said, “I worried about you.”

 

“I worried about you too, but that’s not what I asked.” I turned her cheek in order to look into her eyes and asked again, “Did you _ever_ feel me near?” She sat quietly, avoiding the question, but the answer lay in her eyes. “I felt you, Katniss. I felt you every day, and I held onto that for as long as I could.”

 

We lay facing one another beneath the covers with a two foot gap separating us. “Goodnight,” I held my arm out in welcome, but she rolled away from me. A piece of my heart broke, but I told myself that we had overcome worse things than this, and fell asleep.

 

_The river no longer flowed. My blood was no longer splattered against the white walls, but my angel was there, wings and all. My fingers touched hers just as she whispered, “I felt you every day, Peeta.”_

 

Opening my eyes, I saw Katniss’s fingers entwined with my own, clutched against the center of her chest, and I drowned. Not in the venomous river that almost took my life, but in the love I feel for the woman lying beside me. The love that breathed new life into me.

 

When she said, “Every day, Peeta,” in her sleep, I knew…I had finally reached her. Her lashes fluttered open, her lids still heavy, but her eyes were wide awake and bored into mine. “Every day, Peeta," she whispered as she brushed her hand across my cheek. "I could feel you every day.” And in that moment, I knew she had reached me too.

 

 

 ~The End~

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

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